


Waiting in Canada

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-08-12
Updated: 2000-08-12
Packaged: 2018-11-10 13:15:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11127699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Fraser waits for Ray to arrive.





	Waiting in Canada

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Waiting in Canada - by Ashinae

**Rating/Warning:** G. Slash. Little to no angst, how's that?   
**Pairing:** Fraser/Vecchio   
**Disclaimer:** Ray and Fraser don't belong to me, though I like playing with them very much.   
**Spoilers:** none   
**Summary:** Fraser waits for Ray to arrive.   
**Notes:** I channel Fraser, or so I'm told. I enjoy his POV. This bit me in the butt today and demanded to be written, so here it is. *phew* A little break from all that angsty stuff I write. Seems people like this stuff better than the angst I write, so what the heck. 

Stroke my ego. Contact me here:. 

* * * * *

**WAITING IN CANADA** \- August, 2000   
by Ashinae 

The past three days were spent cleaning and fixing up my father's cabin. 

Alone. 

I don't mind, not really. I certainly wish Ray could have been here with me over that time, especially considering we have to be back in Chicago in four days. Things had happened just before our flight, and Ray had to remain for a few days, but would be here today. I'm not quite sure when, though. He told me not to worry; he could get here on his own in one piece. 

I wonder, sometimes, why Ray does things for me. He actually... invited himself up here with me. I wanted to get away from the city for a while, and my father's cabin still needed some attention. Ray had said, "Hey, why don't I join you?" then told me I should stop looking at him like he was "nuts." 

"You *want* to come?" I asked. 

"Yeah, of course. What are friends for, right?" And he flashed me that *smile* and I would have been putty in his hands... 

I can't help but smile to myself. Even if we weren't going to have the entire week together alone here, we would have four days. Just the two of us. 

He doesn't like it here. And yet, he wanted to come. My mind still hasn't quite wrapped around that, but I am not about to argue or question. Ray works in mysterious ways. 

I almost laugh at that thought. There's nothing mysterious about it. He is the best friend I ever could have asked for, and just so much more to me. The love I feel for him transcends almost anything I have ever felt. I would be lost without him. 

And I don't think he even realises that. I would do anything for him, if he would ask me. But have I ever been able to tell him that? Of course not. If ever I tried, one of us would end up running from the room, screaming--and I get the terrible, sinking feeling that person would be *me* because I'm just so horribly inept sometimes... at least with things like that. Feelings and I don't work well together. 

Ray would blame my upbringing. Perhaps, that's it. 

I have added my own personal touch to the cabin--it's not much, just a few of my own photographs, doubles of ones I have back in Chicago. A few pictures of the Vecchio family, a few of Ray alone, several of Ray and I. I smile as I pick up one of the frames, staring down at the photo, from this past Christmas. Mrs. Vecchio was trying to use up the last few shots on the roll of film, and Ray and I were the only other people in the house. In the photograph, we are sitting next to each other, shoulders touching, in front of the Christmas tree. Ray is wearing a Santa hat, a red silk shirt and dark pants. I am wearing a red sweater and jeans. She had taken two pictures of us in front of the tree... the other one we are smiling at the camera, and I have the one copy in my album at home, the other I gave to Ray. But in this one, we're grinning at each other. I rather selfishly kept both copies. Ray has yet to realise this, but the other copy is on my desk in the Consulate. 

I glance at my watch. It's four o'clock, and I'll admit I'm starting to get worried. The weather is absolutely gorgeous, but that doesn't mean Ray couldn't be stuck somewhere. I shouldn't have let him talk me into waiting for him. 

He's the only person I have. 

Diefenbaker jumps up from his spot on the bed and comes over to me, pushing his nose against my hand. I let him see the picture, but of course that's not what he's telling me. I sigh. 

"Of course I'm concerned," I tell him. "I can't help it." 

He looks at me in a way that tells me he thinks I'm just being silly. But by seven o'clock he's waiting by the door, occasionally going over to the window and standing on his hind legs to look out. 

Somehow, I think that if something really had happened to Ray, I would know. On an instinctual level, I would be able to tell that he was in trouble. I will admit, that my concern isn't just for his safety. I am more concerned that he has changed his mind about making the trip. 

I find myself wishing I had a phone. 

I eat a solitary dinner, again, staring down at the food on my plate and wondering why Ray would change his mind, then berating myself for thinking that. He would never do that. The flights were late, delayed, something, anything. He wanted to be here with me. 

I clean my dishes, and look around. The cabin seems lonely, quiet, empty. I miss him. I miss his voice, and his eyes, and his expressive face, the way he calls me "Benny" and everything about him. I miss the way he smells. There is something comforting about his scent. 

I pick up a book and sit down on the bed, try to read, but keep looking up at the door, as if I can will him to appear. 

It's eleven thirty the last time I look at my watch. 

I wake up to fingers in my hair. I open my eyes and see a very tired-looking Ray sitting on the edge of the bed. He pulls his hand away quickly, looking at me guiltily. 

"Hey, Benny," he says softly. 

"Ray," I reply, picking up my book and putting it on the floor as I sit up. "What time is it?" 

"About two in the morning." 

"Where have you been?" 

"Oh, don't ask, Benny. Things were just a little nuts back home. I didn't get out till late in the afternoon, and then the craziness trying to get out here..." He sighs. "But I'm here now and I'm fine." 

I can't meet his eyes. "I was afraid you weren't going to come, Ray." 

"Benny!" he exclaims. "Why would you think that?" 

"I don't know," I say softly. "But I'm glad you could make it." 

He pulls me into his arms. "Me too, Benny. You know nothing can keep me away from you. Neither hail nor snow nor ravenous polar bears..." 

"Polar bears?" 

He grins at me. "Ravenous ones." 

"Ray..." 

He silences me with a kiss. "Nothing, Benny. Trust me on that, okay? It would take one hell of an act of God to keep me from being with you." 

I hold him tight. "I love you, Ray." 

"Love you forever, Benny." 

FIN


End file.
